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Geographic Harbor

Tue, 18 Jul 2006 22:25:18 GMT

Geographic Harbor

By Mark Ward

On a rainy weekend in June, we kicked the dock in Seward and headed for Geographic Harbor. Our journey would take us through some 600 nautical miles of sailing among the Kenai Fjords, Shelikof Straits and to Geographic Harbor on the Alaska Peninsula, home of MANY brown bears.

For the first couple days and nights we battled with the remnants of a multitude of low pressure fronts that had converged on the area leaving behind, big seas, strong williwaws and damp conditions. As we traveled with Mirage, we were able to catch up with Tlingit in Verdant cove, which had left a couple days earlier, but had also been pinned down by weather. We sailed out of Verdant for Tonsina and after rounding Aialik cape, sailed broad reaching or running with consistent 20-28 knots of wind from the northwest. Radiance continued to sail wing-on-wing and surfing down building seas to McArthur Passage, then through the pass with 26 knots on the stern. It was a bit of a white knuckle experience, but quite exhilarating sailing 11.5 knots SOG through McArthur Pass, with the crashing waves and shoreline just yards off the beam. WOW. After shooting through the pass, it was amazingly calm on the other side, yet we still had the wind to sail on and through Nuka Passage. We made Tonsina and rested up for the next days long crossing.

Next morning we started with a reefed main and blasting back out into 26 knots, then reaching down the coast to Gore Point. The wind and waves continued to subside as I shook out the reef and we pointed to Cary Inlet on Shuyak Is. some 90 miles away. The clouds slowly cleared as we sailed in 20-26 knots downwind, surfing on the long waves. Poling out the genoa, Radiance made good distance sailing wing-on-wing and we watched a humpback whale breach completely out of the water and land in a giant splash of energy. As we approached Shuyak Is. We were met by many finback whales, otters and a beautiful view of Mt. St. Augustine steaming away in the setting sun. The long day found us anchored inside Cary inlet with a beautiful sunset and glass calm waters. The kids kayaked around in the sun and Dana and I enjoyed cocktails in the warm evening sun before dinner. Next day we enjoyed beach excursions and Piper even saw a baby fawn in the woods, barely able to stand. Later, we took a dinghy excursion out of the inlet, pulling the kayaks and explored skiff passage which connects to Big Bay, a world class kayaking destination. Exploring a small islet on the way back, we were surprised to see VERY fresh brown bear sign and kept the kids close as they collected chitin shells.

When the tide was high enough, we pulled the hook and made for Kukak Bay across Shelikof Straits on the Alaska Peninsula. Motor sailing in calm seas, Mirage made the move to catch up and set the spinnaker and was followed closely by Tlingit doing the same. It was perfect broad reach spinnaker sailing with flat seas and light winds. Another long day and we were finally met by the fabled inhabitants of the Alaska Peninsula, the brown bear. As we pulled into Kukak Bay, we began counting bears on the beach and had tallied 14 by the time we anchored around the back side of a small island. All 3 boats rafted for Tanguire & Tonics and dinner, toasting our arrival as we watched a bear feeding just off the beach.

The next day we sailed out into Shelikof and turned south for Geographic Harbor, about 30 miles away. The wind building out of the northeast made for another downwind run as we raced along in the blustery conditions sailing wing-on-wing. A large pod of porpoises joined us, swimming hard to keep up as the wind topped 30 knots and things began to get interesting. With a preventer rigged on the full main and the jib polled out, we were overpowered and I called Mirage on the radio to warn of the strong winds they’d soon encounter. Mirage had already been hit by the gusts, resulting in a broken vang block. With the untamed full mainsail out and a full 130% jib, they had their hands full trying to hand steer and wrestling some sail under control. We all shot into the relative calm of Geographic Harbor and were relieved to get the sails furled. The sun was shining, we’d just had an exhilarating passage and we’d arrived at our main destination. Tucking inside the Northern bight, we were met by a large brown bear on the nearby shoreline. At the top of the food chain with no natural enemies, brown bears reign supreme in this spectacular volcanic landscape that is Geographic Harbor.

From June 6^th to June 8^th, 1912, Novarupta exploded, blowing 15 cubic kilometers of volcanic material into the air. Ten times more powerful than the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helen’s, this would be the largest eruption of the 20th century. Atmospheric effects were worldwide and there were earthquakes reported daily as far away as Cold Bay for the 70 days following the eruption. Animal and plant life was decimated by ash and acid rain. Bears and other large animals were blinded by ash and starved when large numbers of the plants and small animals they lived on were wiped out. Millions of dead birds that had been blinded and coated by volcanic ash littered the ground and some neighboring native villages were abandoned…forever.

The mountains surrounding Geographic Harbor still gleam with pulverized white pumice and volcanic ash. Its many islets are now skirted by white sand beaches that look almost tropical. Since the event, nature has reclaimed the land which now teams with bears, deer and otters. As part of Katmai National Park, Geographic Harbor remains one of the most wild and untouched places on earth. This is why we came.

Rising for the early morning minus tide, Dana and I joined John Baker for a clamming expedition. We counted 5 brown bears doing some clamming of their own as we made our way to a sandy spit located between two islands. With relative good visibility, and with shotgun in hand, we kept a sharp lookout for our furry competition. Once we figured out where the clams were, it was easy digging and soon we had dug two buckets of clams. Returning to Radiance, I whipped up some pancakes and bacon, enticing the kids out of bed. The day was shaping up to do some exploration of the surrounding area and we gathered up the gang for a dinghy trip. On a protected white sand beach, we relaxed in the sun. The kids made sand castles and took turns burying each other with sand. The lush foliage and aqua colored water looked almost tropical as we watched a 65 foot French ketch sail into the bay. After the kids had enough sand, we hopped in the dinghy and motored around to the next islet when I commented to the kids to “keep a sharp eye out for bears.” At that moment, dead ahead, was a large brown head sticking out of the water and looking at us. I cut the motor as she lazily pulled herself up on the rocks, posing for photos. She kept an eye on us, but seemed unconcerned and we watched her scratch her backside against the rocks and eat grass. The breeze was slowly pushing us toward her and as I looked up from the camera lens, I realized we were WAY too close. Having heard stories of other bear-dinghy encounters and bluff charges, we started the motor and idled in reverse until well clear. Back at Radiance we were pleasantly surprised to see Kahe’a sail into the harbor. She’s the Hawaiian boat that we met in Seward and John met last summer in Cordova.

Another stunning sunny day as Dave and I set crab pots (in spite of discouraging crabbing reports) in hope of finding some Dungeness crab. Danny and Daniel explored some rocky shoreline caves in the kayaks while Dana, John, Marcy, Piper and I took the larger of the clams over to a beautiful stream surrounded by white sandy beaches to clean them in fast flowing water. That eve, Tor, his parents and girlfriend from Kahe’a joined the crew of Radiance aboard the rafted Mirage and Tlingit for cocktails and fresh grilled king salmon, halibut and small butter clams. We topped the evening off by watching a bear clamming on the beach in the setting sun and Tor and I took some more bear photos from the dinghy.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Tue, 06 Jun 2006 23:22:19 GMT

Radiance brings home the Silver in

First White Sails Race of Season

The first in a series of WHSYC sponsored white sails races were held Saturday June 3^rd in Seward under bright sunny skies and perfect 15-20 knots of breeze out of the south. Radiance was crewed by Scott as helmsman, Grant, Jeff and Peter as cockpit trimmers and Annette, Joy and Elanor as glamorous rail-meat and Trish as chief photographer.

Being the fastest rated boat on the course, our handicap put us last in the staggered start and also made us the committee boat. Annette did a fine job with Grant keeping track of times to start and all boats got off the line with only a few late.

Radiance and her crew showed their stuff as we passed all the boats and were about to round the mark when our genoa blew out on a tack. We ended up tacking the final yards to the mark under mainsail alone and Williwaw screamed by. After rounding the mark, the crew handled the sail change and got the blade up just after being passed by Bob on Afirmance. But it did not take long to gain another position and Radiance squeaked out a well-earned second place behind Williwaw. The second race began about 30 minutes later and after everyone had a chance to celebrate with a beer. Some of the boats got better starts on the second race and Radiance ended up starting about 18 seconds late, but not bad. We were pointing well with the blade, but never having flown the sail in race mode, we were struggling with lead car positions. A couple tacks from the mark we were on a converging course with Williwaw on starboard tack. Meet mild Linda, yelled across the water “Starboard!” and realizing we were not going to cross in front, we ducked behind and shot out the other side, though lost a lot of boat speed in the process. But we got a great photo.

We finally got our jib lead car right just about the time we rounded the windward mark. Bob on Afirmance was close, but we easily slid under him and ended the second race with a good solid second place. 3-cheers for the crew of Radiance….a great crew and a great time!

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Tue, 30 May 2006 21:23:13 GMT

Memorial Day 2006

The first cruise of the year was a 3-day Memorial Day weekend and we were blessed with sunshine and unseasonably warm temperatures. After helping fellow sailor Dave with his haul out in the morning, the crew of Radiance set sail about lunchtime. The warm north winds were blowing about 18 knots and made for a nice downwind leg out to Fox Island where we decided on Porcupine Cove, 2-bights south of Bulldog for our destination. This south facing cove has a beautiful beach with a large lake behind it and is a natural rookery for harbor seals and their newborn pups. It is often inaccessible due to the large swell from the Gulf of Alaska, but was sunny and calm this time and provided a great anchorage for the night. We met up with the Baker’s from Tlingit for a nice bonfire complete with wine and s’mores and watched the many harbor seals with pups and sea lions put on a show along the beach. Piper entertained us with a cute puppet show for us with her two hand puppets. We played rock-Janga and Marcy created Zen-magic with her perfectly smooth and round rock pile symmetry.

The next morning Piper and I took a spin in the Avon and watched the many seals and their pups along the rocks in the morning sun. Paddling in his kayak, John pointed out a mountain goat and calf high on the steep rocky ledge above.

We enjoyed the quiet of the morning before heading back for a pancake feed aboard the boat then pulled the hook and headed over to catch the high tide for a dinghy exploration trip into Bear GlacierAfter piling all 5 of us into the Avon, plus the 80 lb dog, we could barely make headway upstream and after crunching a few rocks with the prop, we lightened the load and Jessica and I got the boat up on step so we could traverse the rapids while the others walked the flat open beach.

Once in the calm waters above, we loaded all back aboard and headed into the ice field. As we made our way through the bergs and got closer to the glacier, the temperature continued to drop. We felt like Antarctic explorers as we searched for leads through the ice and closer to the glacier.

The chill was beginning to get everyone and so we headed back to the main stream and to Radiance. Dana and Danny enjoyed laying on the hot black sand for a spell before we transported everyone back to Radiance. With Bulldog cove in sight, we motored over to join Tlingit, Forever, Inua and new friends Mike and Alissa who’d sailed over from Kodiak aboard Pelagic, a beautiful Pacific Seacraft 37. After cocktails and dog beach duty, we all congregated for a massive beach party and bonfire to celebrate several of the teenage crew’s birthdays with toasting of beers and marshmallows.

Monday morning came quickly and with it a definitive change in temperature. Though still sunny, the breeze was filling in from the south and was much cooler. We enjoyed a peaceful breakfast and I puttered with a few deck projects before we hoisted anchor and sailed for Seward. The breeze built and made for a perfect sail home to top off a perfect weekend.

Yea, summer is here!

It may not look like Spring, but....................

Mon, 17 Apr 2006 23:28:36 GMT

The harbor has already come to life

Spring is in the air and I've already started on the list of projects which include a sail locker remodel, some engine work and then we'll start de-winterizing! With other music committments and going to Juneau, I've got a late start on some of this but am eager to get caught up. All very exciting except the timeframe is already looking amazingly short and this will be a BIG year because I've got to pull the boat, replace some seacocks, thru-hulls, rudder bearings, zincs and then also do bottom paint - then the regular list of de-winterizing before we can go sailing. Whew! Better got to work!

Friday, November 18, 2005

Fri, 18 Nov 2005 18:01:07 GMT

Winter Cometh

By Mark Ward

It’s grey today. The clouds fill the sky and touch the snowy ground. They are low overhead; thick and dark on the horizon. Frozen like a black-and-white photograph, the absence of color is instead more a variation of greys. I can see my breath, but the grey dulls my depth perception, turning the world into a two-dimensional experience. It is winter.

Already, vivid green leaves, iridescent flowers, the infinite blues of water and even the oranges and yellows of fall seem a distant dream. It’s as if the world has always been this way; like Narnia under the spell of the white witch. It’s mid-November and spring seems years away. I have reluctantly accepted the unstoppable onslaught of winter, mowed the grass, drained the hoses, readied the snow blower, and traded the lawn rakes and planters for snow shovels and ice-melt. The family sailboat has been stripped down with sails unbent, canvas folded, tanks drained, systems winterized and extra mooring lines added for the inevitable violence of winter storms. Like an embalmed corpse, she lies lifeless alone in her berth.

Spaced neatly to keep us occupied through the dark months, we are temporarily occupied by the diversion of the holidays. January comes. Save for the celebration of a new year, it’s a dark and hollow month. As our planet tips, the light and warmth of the sun will creep back into our lives.

The longer days will bring thoughts of spring….and sailing. Archived memories of unfinished boat projects will emerge. We will renew our endeavors to ready our boats for opening day. We will carefully plan our summer weekends and extended summer cruise. Then, just as it was leached away, color and hope will seep back into our lives. Without warning, we will begin to feel the sense of urgency and excitement that spring bestows. I’ll be driven to organize, itemize, prioritize and finish boat projects to make our boat ready for sea and for the adventures of summer. I’ll have the sails serviced and spend my lunch hours collecting parts and pieces from the local chandlery so my weekend boat projects will not be delayed. There will be excitement on the docks. Radiance will be ready to come out of hibernation. As her caretaker, I’ll reassemble her, bend on sails and tune her rig, breathing life back into her. Then there will be that first sail of the season and a million dollar smile will beam from my face and in my heart.

When mid-summer comes, I’ll have Radiance in top shape for our summer vacation cruise. We’ll explore some new coastline and I’ll relish with my kids, the exquisite adventure of cruising. Until then, I’ll hunker down by the fire and lose myself in glossy sailing magazines...and try to survive the holidays, awaiting that first sign of spring.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Mon, 22 Aug 2005 19:43:34 GMT

Radiance sails the

Rum Doodle

With a perfect 15 knots southerly, Saturday saw the return of the “annual” Rum Doodle sailboat race in Resurrection bay.Three boats competed in this all-women's event, Williwaw, Radiance and Justice.Linda Kumin and daughters raced Williwaw, taking first place honors racing in honor of the late Jon Kumin.Deborah Altermat raced Justice with an experienced crew and took second place honors, while Dana raced Radiance with a complete novice crew ranging in age down to 3-1/2 year old Piper.

All teams had a great time and were treated to magnums of Champaign from the Williwaw crew.Then after the race, original Rum Doodle racers Bill and Nancy Schoephoester (owners of the boat Rum Doodle,) hosted the cocktail party with drinks and appetizers, followed by a fantastic spread of gourmet food courtesy of Walter Heinz who volunteered his efforts in the kitchen helping to make this year’s event a wild success.The women from all teams were already talking about next year and recruiting other boats for the event.Deb Altermat may have an upcoming article in the Seward Log and possibly something the Anchorage Daily News.Good job to all who participated as a great time was had by all!

The Pace Boat, Mirage, was sailed by an unknown group of "women" that mysteriously dissapered after the race.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Tue, 19 Jul 2005 23:43:26 GMT

HEARING THE SOUND

By Mark Ward

Departing the dock on a sunny afternoon in June, we beat into a 15 knot southerly for Bulldog Cove. Besides our immediate family of 5, my uncle, Rock Eggen, his wife Yolanda and Daughter “Dusty” joined us for a 2-week trip to Prince William Sound, Alaska. Nellie Juan was to be our main destination, while visiting as many interesting sites as possible. Recommended for National Park designation by no less than four agencies, Nellie Juan is a spectacular area with towering mountains, a tidewater glacier, mountain lakes, great beaches, waterfalls, salmon and excellent hiking. The huge granite domes that surround Nellie Juan have earned it the nickname "little Yosemite." Rare to Alaska, we had heard about the white sand beaches in Deep Water Bay and were eager to find them.

Leaving Resurrection Bay, we set out into the Gulf of Alaska along the gulf coast for southeastern entrance to Prince William Sound. Except for the underlying swell, the sea was quiet as we motor-sailed across the calm waters until the South wind picked up, allowing us to sail into Port Bainbridge and up to Bainbridge Glacier where we dropped the hook. After launching the dinghy, I ferried everyone ashore for a hike to the face of the glacier. The sun shone brightly as the kids ran barefoot through the sand and we took turns catching floating glacier ice in the stream at the foot of the glacier. Marveling at the glacier, our rocky mountain guests held the cold clear glacier ice in their hands for the first time.

After returning to the boat, we transited Bainbridge and Knight Island Passage arriving at the old Chenega Village site on the Southern end of Chenega Is. The foliage has all but reclaimed the site and all that remains visible from the water is the lone schoolhouse on the hill. Piercing the air with his cry, a bald eagle slowly glided above as we took a moment of silence, in honor of the villagers that were swept away during the 1964 earthquake and tried to visualize the 70-foot wave that covered the town.

Towards Icy Bay, we spotted some bigger chunks of ice or “growlers” and Radiance headed west for a cautious rendezvous. While Rock and Yolanda rowed around a small berg, Danny, (aka “Ice wrangler”) filled the ice chest with beautiful clean glacier ice……millions of years in the making. I tossed a fishing line over the side and watched it pay out until it reached the bottom. Within minutes, I had hooked a large halibut. As Rock and Yolanda climbed back aboard, the reel was spilling off line and the fish took off seemingly unaffected by the insignificant pull toward the surface. I handed the pole to Rock. “Wow. This fish is really strong.” “Reel. Reel. Keep the tip up!” But, in a minute, he was gone……perhaps a little more powerful than the last brown trout Rock caught in Colorado.

We motored up to Ewan Bay for the night to experience the “reversing waterfall.” Hitting the high tide just right, Danny, Rock and I launched the Kayaks and rode the rapids into the lagoon with the last of the flood. Inside was like a lake; calm and clear, but surrounded by inter-tidal plants and sea life. By the time we circled the perimeter of the serene lagoon and returned to the entrance, the tide was flowing out and we rode the rapids, now flowing in the opposite direction back out of the lagoon.

The next day was beautiful as we motored up the shoreline. Turning the corner into Nellie Juan, the rugged snow-capped granite mountains, towered over the water. With several glaciers in view and the sun at our backs, we had arrived and it was beautiful!

We headed to Derickson Bay and after collecting more floating glacier ice for the ice chest, went ashore on the glacial moraine that separates Nellie Juan Glacier and lagoon from the sea. We portaged 2 kayaks to the lagoon and Yolanda stared her uneasiness with water square in the eye, boarded a kayak and paddled bravely among large ice bergs in the frigid glacier lake that skirts Nellie Juan glacier. I reminded her not to get too close to the floating ones as they can roll over unexpectedly. So keeping her distance, and with a little coaxing, she and Rock paddled among the blue bergs. Afterward, we celebrated her triumph with good French dark chocolate.

After pulling anchor, we rounded the corner to the NW and entered Deep Water Bay, anchoring in about 30 ft. off the white sand beach. In the morning, I paddled quietly toward the beach to find a black bear on the shoreline. Sitting quietly in the kayak, sipping coffee, I watched him comb the high tide line and scamper into the brush as the morning mist disappeared with the heat of the sun. Returning to the boat, I rigged up the dingy and we all went ashore with all intentions for a hike. However, the sun was so warm and the sand felt so nice as the tide receded. Friends aboard Allie Brie were already playing volley ball and there were sand-castles in the making. We all took off our shoes and over the next hours proceeded to roll up pant legs, shed clothing and get into some serious volley ball. As the sun shone down on us and the breeze blew gently, I had to do a double take a few times, looking back at Radiance lying at anchor off the fine clean white sand beach. This was not a sight familiar to our experience cruising the Alaskan coastline. This was something right out of scenes of cruising the South Pacific. It was marvelous.

The day had drifted slowly into late afternoon and the kids had taken over the volley ball court. The sand castle had turned into a “sand-kingdom” and there was a fancy sand sea-turtle decorated with several kids of shells. The wind died down as the clouds rolled in over the hills and with it, the small opportunistic biting flies. In spite of wanting for hotdogs on the beach, we opted for dinner on the boat. The kids gathered on Allie Brie to make cookies and the adults joined us aboard Radiance for blended glacier-ice margaritas. Friends from Forever had arrived with a 2-speed hand crank blender and we all took turns at the crank blending various concoctions with tequila and rum.

We spent several more days at Deep Water, eating all the shrimp we could catch in our small pots. We hiked the amazing granite hills and spotted black bears along the large lake below. We took turns bathing in a warm fresh water stream and stayed yet another night in Deep Water. I hated to leave, but time was marching on.

Next morning we headed down the coast to Granite Bay for the night. In the morning after some quiet exploring in the kayaks we hiked to a beautiful lake at the head of the bay. Everyone swam and bathed in the lake and enjoyed the feeling of being clean. The hiking along the hillside was easy as we picked wild blueberries in the warm sunshine before returning to Radiance. We sailed southeast along Knight Island Passage and after setting the shrimp pots under a broad reach, we sailed into Drier Bay. Rock and Yolanda went straight to work on grilling 3 different recipes of fresh rockfish and we enjoyed a fabulous dinner in the small protected Northeast lagoon. Then kids topped off the evening by taking turns driving the dingy ‘round and ‘round the boat with big smiles of pleasure in their new found skill.

In the morning, we dropped the hook in front of the Port Audrey cannery and went ashore to explore the World War I ruins. Similar to McClure Bay cannery, there were large iron steam canning tanks and parts of machinery rusting in the place where the tsunami had relocated them. We also picked around some of the old bunk houses and mess hall. It must have bee a thriving wilderness camp in its day. We found remnants of bunk houses, mess hall and offices and discovered some old tools that had seen some serious use, but left them where they lay for someone else to discover.

We set sail across Knight Island Passage and decided to stop at the southern end of Chenega Is. for some more fishing. We were all holding our breath in hopes for a halibut, when Dana hooked into a monster. She was really straining against this fish, so I asked Danny to get the net, boat hook and told everyone we may have to use the shotgun if it’s a big halibut. She fought the fish for a while before we could finally see the orange color surfacing. It was a HUGE red snapper. With their bright orange color, large head and huge yellow eyes, they look like something out of a Walt Disney movie, but are very good eating. Rock was able to get the net under it and wrestle the fish aboard while Piper exclaimed; “Good job mommy! You caught a HUGONGUS fish!” Barely able to close the lid to the ice chest, we all laughed and congratulated Dana on a nice catch.

After spending the night in Iktua Bay on Knight Island, we all headed off for a hike across the island to the native village of Crab Bay (New Chenega). Hiking the 3-miles or so across the rolling hills, we snacked on salmon berries and blue berries until we reached the village. The teenage girls were sorely disappointed on finding that “there is no store in Chenega” as they were longing for a soda. But we visited the two Russian Orthodox churches and walked up and down a few streets before heading to the small boat harbor, where we ate lunch and cooled our heels in the ocean. There was a dilapidated blue sailboat in the harbor that looked like it had not moved in years. Otherwise, most floats were filled with commercial fishing boats. The sun was high when we set off back toward the other side of the Island. Piper rode on my back with her feet in my pant pockets, quite the hiker for a 3-year old.

After returning to the boat, we headed down Prince of Whales Passage for Fox Farm Anchorage and a rendezvous with Tom and Teresa aboard Forever. Yolanda and Dana whipped up dinner on the fly of falafels and fresh veggies. In the late afternoon sun, we watched a whale feeding off south Bainbridge Island before anchoring in Fox Farm Anchorage for our last night in Prince William Sound.

As the last rays of the setting sun poured over Radiance, Rock and I played fiddle tunes in the cockpit and the kids took turns terrorizing the otherwise peaceful anchorage in the dinghy. Joined by friends from Forever, we enjoyed the late evening light and toasted our farewell to the sound of Prince William.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Wed, 08 Jun 2005 19:18:47 GMT

Radiance Brings Home the Silver!

Saturday June 4^th was the first “white sails” sailboat race of the season in Resurrection Bay, Alaska. The day started out with bright sunshine and a 10:00 am skippers meeting at the WHSYC clubhouse. Six boats would be competing in a series of short windward/leeward races. The wind was BLOWING out of the North at over 20 knots and accompanied with some big gusts. We were going to need some serious “rail-meat.”

Our crew consisted of Deb, Christy, Annette, Tricia, Dana and Piper with Bill and Dave as the core trimmers and me on the helm. After a short safety meeting in the cockpit and explanation of positions, we headed out into the bay for some practice. Starting out with a reefed Kevlar mainsail and a scrap of the 130 rolled out, we practiced tacking and honed our skills. Christy watched for the flag sequence and when the red flag went up she started her stopwatch for our 5 minute 27 second countdown. With a staggered start and as one of the faster boats, we were supposed to be the last boat to start. However, making our starting time by just a few seconds over, we were shocked to see Noatak and Williwaw had not yet started.

This caused a little confusion which was compounded by the fact that we did not know where the mark was and the boats in front of us apparently didn’t either. The timekeepers watch on Noatak had seemingly stopped and they were awaiting Williwaw to start, but Williwaw had a problem getting the jib tack attached and ended up too far from the line for a clean start. We took advantage of their misfortune and after finding the mark ourselves, made the rhumbline. After rounding the mark, we were hard on the wind and seeing 27 knots apparent with gusts to 38 knots! With everyone on the high side, we still buried the leeward rail and half the stanchions a couple times, but tried to keep up our boat speed and as we approached the finish line, it looked like we were going to cross first but close to Wild Thing. I concentrated on driving and had the crew make the call. All agreed that we crossed the line by a nose. However, later on the crew from Wild thing claimed the same, so we gracefully accepted a second place finish.

After a quick beer and a few photos, we began jockeying for another start. This time as the clock ticked down after th red flag, Williwaw was not going to make the same mistake. Blazing down the line on a reach, Williwaw turned to cross the line just in time and in perfect form. Trying to time our start, I ended up tacking one too many times before falling off and missed our start by about 30 seconds. We watched Williwaw, with her huge mainsail and fractional rig leave us in her wake. After rounding the mark and back on the beat, we held our own but the distance was too great to catch Williwaw and we finished with a solid second place.

In all, we had a great time and after getting back to the dock enjoyed cold beer and warm sunshine in the cockpit. The evening cocktail party and barbecue topped off the day as a success in the first of a series summer races planned. But next, we’ll be heading over to Prince William Sound for 2 weeks of cruising and gunk-holing.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Wed, 18 May 2005 17:18:37 GMT

First to Kodiak

By Mark Ward

Hungry for adventure, my wife Dana and I had chosen Kodiak Alaska for our annual summer family cruise. Hoping to get in some serious sailing as well as visit some of the most wild coastline left in the world, Radiance, our Beneteau First 456 and crew had teamed up with 2 other mid-‘80’s Frers-designed First series boats: a 42 named Indian Summer, and Katmai, a sleek First 51. We would cover some 500 miles, plying the Gulf of Alaska and the mighty Shelikoff Straits on our 2-week trip. Our best weather window would be late June through early July for sunshine, a coveted commodity in coastal Alaska sailing. June 25^th found all three boats departing sunny Seward for Bulldog Cove, our real launching point. With plans to visit Geographic harbor, Katmai and Indian Summer had decided to make the 27 hour crossing from Cape Aialik to Kukak Bay, near the old village of Katmai nestled at the base of Katmai National Park.With our children Jessica, age 13, Danny, age 12 and Piper, age 2, we decided to minimize the long passages and hop down the coast, first visiting Nuka Bay before making the crossing to Afognak and Kodiak Island. We all agreed to meet in the town of Kodiak for the 4^th of July festivities.

When Russian fur trader Stephan Glotov peered through his telescope and caught the first glimpse of Kodiak through the fog, he could not have known the treasure he had “discovered.” The year was 1763, some 20 years after Vitas Bering ventured across what would later be named the Bering Strait in search of the rumored rich fur grounds to the East. Widespread armed conflict had swept through the Aleutian Islands to Kodiak between the insatiable Russian fur traders and the native Alutiiq, or Aleut people. The largest island in the area was originally known as Kikhtak, or Cadiack, an Aleut word roughly translating to land of our enemies. Originally numbering 16,000, by 1781 there were fewer than 2000 Alutiiq people in the area. Warring, enslavement and disease had taken its toll. By 1798, hundreds of thousands of seals, sea otters and foxes would be taken by the Russian American Company, nearly decimating these species. The years to follow would see continued pressure from the fur trade, whaling and the establishment of permanent settlements as the Russian Orthodox Church made its mark on the area.After Russian America was sold to the United States in 1867, Kodiak was chosen by the FAA for an extensive radio communications site, a US Naval base, and would later become one of the largest Coast Guard facilities in the Pacific.

The weather gods smiled on us as we lazily explored the remote glacier waters of Kenai Fjords National Park. The area is dotted with tidewater and hanging glaciers, islands with protected coves, rugged cliffs and waterfalls. Sea otters, whales, bald eagles and puffins entertained us as we explored pristine blue-green inlets. In Thunder Bay, we found ourselves removing the usual layers of polar fleece to walk barefoot on unseasonably warm beaches. Jessica was thrilled to walk alongside fresh bear tracks in the black sand as Piper played naked on the beach. Surprise Bay with its surrounding granite walls provided a spectacular protected anchorage as we picked our fill of blue mussels from the rocks. In our dinghy, Danny and I explored the quiet lagoon in Tonsina Bay, cheering as we rode the rapids of the ebb current back out to Radiance. We could have easily spent our two weeks here with many glaciers and bays to be seen, but our adventure lay ahead. An early 5:30 a.m. start found us outbound with the ebb. A humpback whale breached just as we rounded Gore Point; a farewell for our departure from the mainland.

In 1776, eight days after the Declaration of Independence had been signed on the opposite side of the Atlantic, His Majesty, King George III, dispatched Captain James Cook, commanding the research vessels, Discovery and Resolution to seek the Northwest Passage above the American continent. With Bering’s charts in hand, Cook explored much of the South-Central Alaska coastline, filling in the blank spots on the map of the Northern coast. The extent of Spanish and Russian claims was not yet clear, and Cook was ordered to avoid any possible conflict; specifically, not to land where any other European presence was noted.Among his fellow officers were Navigator William Bligh (of later Bounty fame) and First Lieutenant John Gore, who had sailed with Cook on his first voyage aboard Endeavor. After exploring Prince William Sound, and heading West, Cook named Gore Point in his First Lieutenant’s honor. Bligh Reef, made famous by the Exxon Valdez oil-spill, was also named after the tyrannical William Bligh.

It would be 12 hours before we reached Afognak Island, home to the great Kodiak brown bear. The younger crew laid low for the passage as we rode the swells on the port quarter. The wind was light and variable, but we were able to motor sail most of the time. As we approached Afognak, the swell subsided, blocked by the land mass, and the wind increased to about 12 knots. We had a lovely sail for the last 10 miles on a smooth sea.

Out of the low lying clouds loomed the green bluffs of Afognak Island. As the sun burst through to illuminate them, the bright green color seemed unrealistically vivid. Even after crossing the Gulf of Alaska on three deliveries to Seward, this felt like my first real landfall. On those trips, I was always arriving “home.” This was a place I had never seen.We were eager to explore this new land and discover its wildlife which inhabits this unique ecosystem.

Afognak Island was originally designated as a reserve for its outstanding wildlife and salmon habitat value. This coastal forest system, unique to the Kodiak Archipelago, contains only one tree species: the Sitka spruce. Though there are some cabins scattered over the island, it remains very much an unspoiled wilderness area. As we anchored in Seal Bay, the sun went below the hills and we feasted on Bar-B-Q ribs, corn-on-the-cob, garlic bread and good wine in celebration. Whenever cruising with kids, we always try to get to shore each night.So, grabbing the shotgun and marshmallows, we headed to the beach. While gathering firewood, I wandered just behind the tree-line to find a fairly open mossy forest floor under the tall Sitka spruce trees. Cut through the underbrush was a wide “freeway sized” game trail. Looking down, I noticed a completely intact Sitka Black Tail deer hoof that had clearly gone through the digestive plumbing of a Kodiak Brown Bear! The S’mores were good, but we stayed close to the beach and to the fire. I felt grateful to be sleeping onboard Radiance some 200 yards off the beach that night.

The next morning, we sailed around Tolstoi Point to time our passage inside Marmot Island.As the bottom shoaled near the entrance, the water built to a steep chop from large standing waves spawned by the strong ebb current. We motor sailed down the passage with SOG reading 11 knots. At Pillar Cape, we were escorted at close range into the entrance of Izhut Bay by mother and calf finback whales. The 650 foot towering rocks that mark the entrance provide a natural breakwater to the waves hurled against them from 2000 miles of open water in the Gulf of Alaska. We anchored in a small bight on the southwestern shore of the bay and were invited to tour the hatchery around the bend by a local man in an open skiff. Next morning, my son and I explored the shallow lagoon with the skiff and made friends with a curious fox on the beach. A successful fisherman, the fox was eating small bright silvery fish at the waters edge.He seemed especially curious about Danny and they became instant best friends. The fox followed us like an obedient dog until we left. After pulling anchor, we decided to visit the Kitoi Bay Hatchery. The staff was very accommodating and gave us the grand tour of the facility, explaining the history of the place and its importance to the local salmon fishing industry. We followed each life cycle stage through the small facility and the kids marveled at the millions of salmon fry swirling in the bins. Kitoi Bay was set up as one of the first salmon hatcheries in the area and one of the original hatchery buildings still stands after surviving the tsunami generated from the 1964 Alaska earthquake. It remains a thriving hatchery today. After bidding farewell, we headed out of Kitoi Bay; just as we rounded the point, on a small beach, we spotted our elusive four footed friends - a huge sow and 2 Kodiak Brown Bear cubs. Ghosting by them, we watched in awe as the cubs frolicked on the beach in their own environment while mother kept a watchful eye. Even at a distance, her size was impressive against the tall Sitka spruce. Upon seeing us, she darted just beyond the high tide line and stood up on her hind legs, sniffing the air, before calling her cubs to join her. Savoring the moment, we watched them disappear into the brush.

Five hours later, we sailed through the fog into Monashka Bay on Kodiak Island. Picking our anchorage from the chart and watching the depth sounder, we approached the eastern shore of the bay and were stunned to see a car drive by as modern houses came into view on the bluff. We had been immersed into the coastal wilderness for a week and we were not ready to accept that we had nearly reached our destination, the civilization in plain view. We motored further into the bay, out of site of the houses and anchored off the remains of a shipwreck far up on the beach. Used by the Navy, Santiago was beached here in 1941 because the soft iron riveted hull had started leaking. The 250 foot ship had been a three-masted schooner with teak decks and steam winches and is said to have been President Coolidge's yacht in 1929.In the dimming light, the kids set off in the skiff for the beach and were quick to explore the wreck while we enjoyed a quiet moment.

The next morning found us once again in thick fog. Assigning a radar-watch, we picked our way through the rocks and shoals approaching Spruce Island. The radio was full of chatter from commercial fishing boats trying to identify one another on the radar screens. It was reassuring to have the approaching blips on the screen momentarily appear out of the fog as we steered our way up the channel on instruments alone. It was here that in 1860, the Russian barkentine Kadi’ak struck a reef, badly damaging the hull. She was bound for San Francisco under the command of Captain Illarion Ivanovich Arkhimandritov with a cargo of construction timber and 365 tons of ice. The buoyancy of the cargo kept the ship afloat long enough for all hands to escape and the ship finally sank several days later directly in front of the Russian Orthodox chapel with just one mast and a yard above the water, forming a perfect cross. The wife of Governor Voevodskii had asked Arkhimandritov to hold a “Te Deum,” or hymn of praise in the chapel on Spruce Island near the place where Father Herman was buried. He had not done so, and some believed this resulted in the ultimate demise of the ship. The Russian Orthodox Church later canonized Saint Herman, the only Orthodox Saint to be named from America.As we approached St, Paul harbor, the chapel on the hill with its bell tower, copper cupola and distinctive 3-bar cross emerged out of the fog, a historical welcome to Kodiak.

The St. Paul harbor is home to a large commercial fishing fleet, but sailboats are rare and usually indicate visitors from afar. We were welcomed to Kodiak by local sailor Don Parker who immediately extended a dinner invitation. Such is the hospitality of sailors and those who inhabit this land. The lush green on the hills above the town of Kodiak showed why it’s also known as Alaska’s Emerald Isle. The Laundromat, grocery store, hardware store and marine electronics repair shop were all within easy walking distance of the harbor. Eager to point out the surrounding facilities, the harbormaster made us feel quite welcome. Looking around the harbor, I did not find Katmai or Indian Summer. We had been the first to arrive. The next few days would see the weather clear to glorious bright sunshine. We enjoyed the local color of the 4^th of July parade, soap-box-derby, festivities and shared a wonderful harbor view of the midnight fireworks display that night. During our stay we enjoyed multiple visits to the Kodiak Brewing Company, which faces the St. Paul Harbor. We visited the Russian Orthodox Church and Monks Book Store, an eclectic collection of used books and Russian Orthodox gifts. The proprietors were dressed in costume as they served traditional Russian Tea and Wedding Cookies to the local cruise ship guests. Jessica reveled in the new source of inexpensive books and replenished her collection for the trip home. Among the gifts were numerous and beautiful plaques of Russian Orthodox Saints.After learning that all of the local fishing fleet, believers or not, have onboard, a plaque of St. Nicolas, “master over the seas,” to protect their boats, we picked out a small one for Radiance and promptly mounted it near the mast.With the number of lives lost at sea each year among the fishing fleet, it sounded like good idea.

After taking in the local sights, replenishing our supplies and feeling somewhat civilized, we topped off the water and fuel tanks, grabbed a shower and decided it was time to continue our exploration on the West side of Kodiak. The morning had come for us to leave as I overheard Katmai on the VHF inquiring with the harbormaster about a slip. After changing the oil and topping up water and fuel, I met the crews of Katmai and Indian Summer on the docks with a cold beer and we shared our stories in the warm summer sun.

The day brought a beautiful sail to the village of Ouzinki. Founded in the 1800’s by the Russian American Company as a retirement community, it was also home to Saint Herman. The pillars of the old dock facility were visible, but the bay shoals up dramatically and was beyond the reach of our 8 foot draft. We anchored instead just across the swiftly moving channel and were greeted by 2 gentlemen in a large skiff who handed us a bag with 3 large fresh halibut roasts and 2 fresh silver salmon filets, before speeding off. That night we enjoyed fresh halibut, fresh air and fresh beer from Kodiak. The next day took us through Whale Passage and into Kupreanof Strait, where hundreds of huge finback whales were feeding. We marveled as they cruised all around our boat, gorging themselves on krill and schooling fish in the rich and frigid water. Our 2-year old daughter took to standing on one of the cabin top winches, holding onto the dodger handrail and calling “whale, whale” into the wind.

For 2 days, we enjoyed fantastic downwind sailing up the mighty Shelikof Straits. Named in honor of Gregory Shelikof, the 1780’s Russian manager of the Alaskan territory, these straits are noted for some of the nastiest marine weather in the area as wind and tide are funneled between the Alaska Peninsula and Kodiak archipelago. However, for us they remained sleeping giants, providing only warm downwind sailing for our passage.

Our last night in the Kodiak Archipelago would take us to Carry Inlet on the northern end of the low-lying Shuyak Island. Even though the island is only 11 by 12 miles, this state park contains more sheltered interior waterways than anywhere in the whole Kodiak Archipelago. For this reason, it is one of the most sought-after sea kayaking destinations in the world. Back in the remoteness of this island, we were graced with another beautiful midnight sunset and savored the last of our Kodiak anchorages. In the morning, we would depart for the mainland; pass the Barren Islands and retrace our tracks to Seward. Like the Russian fur traders and Aleuts before them, we had discovered Kodiak for ourselves.